A Victor of Salamis

by William Stearns Davis

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE DISLOYALTY OF PHORMIO

  On the evening of the Panathenaea, Bias, servant of Democrates, had suppedwith Phormio,--for in democratic Athens a humble citizen would not disdainto entertain even a slave. The Thracian had a merry wit and astory-teller's gift that more than paid for the supper of barley-porridgeand salt mackerel, and after the viands had disappeared was ready even totell tales against his master.

  "I've turned my brain inside out, and shaken it like a meal sack. Nowisdom comes. The _kyrios_ has something on his mind. He prays to HermesDolios as often as if he were a cut-purse. Then yesterday he sent me forAgis--"

  "Agis?" Phormio pricked up his ears. "The gambling-house keeper? What doesDemocrates with _him_?"

  "Answer yourself. My master has been to Agis's pretty place before to seehis cocks. However, this is different. To-day I met Theon."

  "Who's he?"

  "Agis's slave, the merriest scoundrel in Athens. Agis, he says, has beenprancing like an ass stuffed with barley. He gave Theon a letter fromDemocrates to take to your Babylonian opposite; Theon must hunt upSeuthes, a Corinthian, and worm out of him when and how he was leavingAthens. Agis promised Theon a gold stater if all was right."

  Phormio whistled. "You mean the carpet-dealer here? By Athena's owls,there is no light in his window to-night!"

  "None, indeed," crackled Lampaxo; "didn't I see that cursed Babylonianwith his servants gliding out just as Bias entered? Zeus knows whither! Ihope ere dawn Democrates has them by the heels."

  "Democrates does something to-night," asserted Bias, extending his cup forwine. "At noon Agis flew up to him, chattered something in his ear,whereupon Democrates bade me be off and not approach him till to-morrow,otherwise a cane gets broken on my shoulders."

  "It's not painful to have a holiday," laughed Phormio.

  "It's most painful to be curious yet unsatisfied."

  "But why did not you take the letter to the Babylonian?" observed Phormio,shrewdly.

  "I'm perplexed, indeed. Only one thing is possible."

  "And that is--"

  "Theon is not known in this street. I am. Perhaps the _kyrios_ didn't careto have it rumoured he had dealings with that Babylonian."

  "Silence, undutiful scoundrel," ordered Lampaxo, from her corner; "whathas so noble a patriot as Democrates to conceal? Ugh! Be off with you!Phormio, don't dare to fill up the tipsy fox's beaker again. I want topull on my nightcap and go to bed."

  Bias did not take the hint. Phormio was considering whether it was best tojoin combat with his redoubtable spouse, or save his courage for a moreimportant battle, when a slight noise from the street made all listen.

  "Pest light on those bands of young roisterers!" fumed Lampaxo. "They goaround all night, beating on doors and vexing honest folk. Why don't theconstables trot them all to jail?"

  "This isn't a drunken band, good wife," remarked Phormio, rising; "someone is sitting on the stones by the Hermes, near the door, groaning as ifin pain."

  "A drunkard? Let him lie then," commanded Lampaxo; "let the coat-thievescome and filch his chiton."

  "He's hardly drunken," observed her husband, peering through the latticein the door, "but sick rather. Don't detain me, _philotata_,"--Lampaxo'sskinny hand had tried to restrain. "I'll not let even a dog suffer."

  "You'll be ruined by too much charity," bewailed the woman, but Biasfollowed the fishmonger into the night. The moon shone down the narrowstreet, falling over the stranger who half lay, half squatted by theHermes. When the two approached him, he tried to stagger to his feet, thenreeled, and Phormio's strong arms seized him. The man resisted feebly, andseemed never to hear the fishmonger's friendly questions.

  "I am innocent. Do not arrest me. Help me to the temple of Hephaestos,where there's asylum for fugitives. Ah! Hermione, that I should bring youthis!"

  Bias leaped back as the moonlight glanced over the face of the stranger.

  "Master Glaucon, half naked and mad! _Ai!_ woe!"

  "Glaucon the Alcmaeonid," echoed Phormio, in amazement, and the other stillstruggled to escape.

  "Do you not hear? I am innocent. I never visited the Persian spy. I neverbetrayed the fleet. By what god can I swear it, that you may believe?"

  Phormio was a man to recover from surprise quickly, and act swiftly and tothe purpose. He made haste to lead his unfortunate visitor inside and layhim on his one hard couch. Scarcely was this done, however, when Lampaxoran up to Glaucon in mingled rage and exultation.

  "Phormio doesn't know what Polus and I told Democrates, or what he toldus! So you thought to escape, you white-skinned traitor? But we've watchedyou. We know how you went to the Babylonian. We know your guilt. And nowthe good gods have stricken you mad and delivered you to justice." Shewaved her bony fists in the prostrate man's face. "Run, Phormio! don'tstand gaping like a magpie. Run, I say--"

  "Whither? For a physician?"

  "To Areopagus, fool! There's where the constables have their camp. Bringten men with fetters. He's strong and desperate. Bias and I will wait andguard him. If you stir, traitor,--" she was holding a heavy meat-knife atthe fugitive's throat,--"I'll slit your weasand like a chicken."

  But for once in his life Phormio defied his tyrant effectively. With onehand he tore the weapon from her clutch, the other closed her screamingmouth.

  "Are you mad yourself? Will you rouse the neighbourhood? I don't know whatyou and Polus tattled about to Democrates. I don't greatly care. As forgoing for constables to seize Glaucon the Fortunate--"

  "Fortunate!" echoed the miserable youth, rising on one elbow, "say itnever again. The gods have blasted me with one great blow. And you--you arePhormio, husband and brother-in-law of those who have sworn againstme,--you are the slave of Democrates my destroyer,--and you, woman,--Zeussoften you!--already clamour for my worthless life, as all Athens doesto-morrow!"

  Lampaxo suddenly subsided. Resistance from her spouse was so unexpectedshe lost at once arguments and breath. Phormio continued to act promptly;taking a treasured bottle from a cupboard he filled a mug and pressed itto the newcomer's lips. The fiery liquor sent the colour back intoGlaucon's face. He raised himself higher--strength and mind in a measurereturned. Bias had whispered to Phormio rapidly. Perhaps he had guessedmore of his master's doings than he had dared to hint before.

  "Hark you, Master Glaucon," began Phormio, not unkindly. "You are withfriends, and never heed my wife. She's not so steely hearted as sheseems."

  "Seize the traitor," interjected Lampaxo, with a gasp.

  "Tell your story. I'm a plain and simple man, who won't believe agentleman with your fair looks, fame, and fortune has pawned them all in anight. Bias has sense. First tell how you came to wander down this way."

  Glaucon sat upright, his hands pressing against his forehead.

  "How can I tell? I have run to and fro, seeing yet not seeing whither Iwent. I know I passed the Acharnican gate, and the watch stared at me.Doubtless I ran hither because here they said the Babylonian lived, and hehas been ever in my head. I shudder to go over the scene at Colonus. Iwish I were dead. Then I could forget it!"

  "Constables--fetters!" howled Lampaxo, as a direful interlude, to besilenced by an angry gesture from her helpmeet.

  "Nevertheless, try to tell what you can," spoke Phormio, mildly, andGlaucon, with what power he had, complied. Broken, faltering, scarcecoherent often, his story came at last. He sat silent while Phormioclutched his own head. Then Glaucon darted around wild and hopeless eyes.

  "_Ai!_ you believe me guilty. I almost believe so myself. All my bestfriends have cast me off. Democrates, my friend from youth, has wrought myruin. My wife I shall never see again. I am resolved--" He rose. Adesperate purpose made his feet steady.

  "What will you do?" demanded Phormio, perplexed.

  "One thing is left. I am sure to be arrested at dawn if not before. I willgo to the 'City-House,' the public prison, and give myself up. Theignominy will soon en
d. Then welcome the Styx, Hades, the never endingnight--better than this shame!"

  He started forth, but Phormio's hand restrained him. "Not so fast, lad!Thank Olympus, I'm not Lampaxo. You're too young a turbot for Charon'sfish-net. Let me think a moment."

  The fishmonger stood scratching his thin hairs. Another howl from Lampaxodecided him.

  "Are you a traitor, too? Away with the wretch to prison!"

  "I'm resolved," cried Phormio, striking his thigh. "Only an honest mancould get such hatred from my wife. If they've not tracked you yet,they're not likely to find you before morning. My cousin Brasidas ismaster of the _Solon_, and owes a good turn--"

  Quick strides took him to a chest. He dragged forth a sleeveless sailor'scloak of hair-cloth. To fling this over Glaucon's rent chiton took aninstant, another instant to clap on the fugitive's head a brimless redcap.

  "_Euge!_--you grow transformed. But that white face of yours is dangerous.See!" he rubbed over the Alcmaeonid's face two handfuls of black ashessnatched from the hearth and sprang back with a great laugh, "you're asailor unlading charcoal now. Zeus himself would believe it. All isready--"

  "For prison?" asked Glaucon, clearly understanding little.

  "For the sea, my lad. For Athens is no place for you to-morrow, andBrasidas sails at dawn. Some more wine? It's a long, brisk walk."

  "To the havens? You trust me? You doubt the accusation which every friendsave Hermione believes? O pure Athena--and this is possible!" AgainGlaucon's head whirled. It took more of the fiery wine to stay him up.

  "Ay, boy," comforted Phormio, very gruff, "you shall walk again aroundAthens with a bold, brave face, though not to-morrow, I fear. Polus trustshis heart and not his head in voting 'guilty,' so I trust it voting'innocent.' "

  "I warn you," Glaucon spoke rapidly, "I've no claim on your friendship. Ifyour part in this is discovered, you know our juries."

  "That I know," laughed Phormio, grimly, "for I know dear Polus. So now myown cloak and we are off."

  But Lampaxo, who had watched everything with accumulating anger, now burstloose. She bounded to the door.

  "Constables! Help! Athens is betrayed!"

  She bawled that much through the lattice before her husband and Biasdragged her back. Fortunately the street was empty.

  "That I should see this! My own husband betraying the city! Aiding atraitor!" Then she began whimpering through her nose. "_Mu! mu!_ leave thevillain to his fate. Think of me if not of your own safety. Woe! when wasa woman more misused?"

  But here her lament ended, for Phormio, with the firmness of a manthoroughly determined, thrust a rag into her mouth and with Bias's helpbound her down upon the couch by means of a convenient fish-cord.

  "I am grieved to stop your singing, blessed dear," spoke the fishmonger,indulging in a rare outburst of sarcasm against his formidable helpmeet,"but we play a game with Fate to-night a little too even to allow unfairchances. Bias will watch you until I return, and then I can discover,_philotata_, whether your love for Athens is so great you must go to theArchon to denounce your husband."

  The Thracian promised to do his part. His affection for Democrates wasclearly not the warmest. Lampaxo's farewell, as Phormio guided hishalf-dazed companion into the street, was a futile struggle and a choking.The ways were empty and silent. Glaucon allowed himself to be led by thehand and did not speak. He hardly knew how or whither Phormio was takinghim. Their road lay along the southern side of the Acropolis, past thetall columns of the unfinished Temple of Zeus, which reared to giantheight in the white moonlight. This, as well as the overshadowing Rockitself, they left behind without incident. Phormio chose devious alleys,and they met neither Scythian constables nor bands of roisterers. Onlyonce the two passed a house bright with lamps. Jovial guests celebrated alate wedding feast. Clearly the two heard the marriage hymn of Sappho.

  "The bridegroom comes tall as Ares, Ho, Hymenaeus! Taller than a mighty man, Ho, Hymenaeus!"

  Glaucon stopped like one struck with an arrow.

  "They sang that song the night I wedded Hermione. Oh, if I could drink theLethe water and forget!"

  "Come," commanded Phormio, pulling upon his arm. "The sun will shine againto-morrow."

  Thus the twain went forward, Glaucon saying not a word. He hardly knew howthey passed the Itonian Gate and crossed the long stretch of open countrybetwixt the city and its havens. No pursuit as yet--Glaucon was tooperplexed to reason why. At last he knew they entered Phaleron. He heardthe slapping waves, the creaking tackle, the shouting sailors. Torchesgleamed ruddily. A merchantman was loading her cargo of pottery crates andoil jars,--to sail with the morning breeze. Swarthy shipmen ran up and downthe planks betwixt quay and ship, balancing their heavy jars on theirheads as women bear water-pots. From the tavern by the mooring cameharping and the clatter of cups, while two women--the worse for wine--ranout to drag the newcomers in to their revel. Phormio slapped the slatternsaside with his staff. In the same fearful waking dream Glaucon saw Phormiodemanding the shipmaster. He saw Brasidas--a short man with the face of ahound and arms to hug like a bear--in converse with the fishmonger, saw themaster at first refusing, then gradually giving reluctant assent to somedemand. Next Phormio was half leading, half carrying the fugitive aboardthe ship, guiding him through a labyrinth of bales, jars, and cordage, andpointing to a hatchway ladder, illumined by a swinging lantern.

  "Keep below till the ship sails; don't wipe the charcoal from your facetill clear of Attica. Officers will board the vessel before she puts off;yet have no alarm, they'll only come to see she doesn't violate the lawagainst exporting grain." Phormio delivered his admonitions rapidly, atthe same time fumbling in his belt. "Here--here are ten drachmae, all I'veabout me, but something for bread and figs till you make new friends,--inwhich there'll be no trouble, I warrant. Have a brave heart. Remember thatHelios can shine lustily even if you are not in Athens, and pray the godsto give a fair return."

  Glaucon felt the money pressed within his palm. He saw Phormio turningaway. He caught the fishmonger's hard hand and kissed it twice.

  "I can never reward you. Not though I live ten thousand years and have allthe gold of Gyges."

  "_Phui!_" answered Phormio, with a shrug; "don't detain me, it's time Iwas home and was unlashing my loving wife."

  And with that he was gone. Glaucon descended the ladder. The cabin waslow, dark, unfurnished save with rude pallets of straw, but Glaucon heedednone of these things. Deeper than the accusation by Democrates, than thebelief therein by Themistocles and the others, the friendship of thefishmonger touched him. A man base-born, ignorant, uncivil, had believedhim, had risked his own life to save him, had given him money out of hispoverty, had spoken words of fair counsel and cheer. On the deck above thesailors were tumbling the cargo, and singing at their toil, but Glauconnever heard them. Flinging himself on a straw pallet, for the first timecame the comfort of hot tears.

  * * * * * * *

  Very early the _Solon's_ square mainsail caught the breeze from the warmsouthwest. The hill of Munychia and the ports receded. The panorama ofAthens--plain, city, citadel, gray Hymettus, white Pentelicus--spread in avista of surpassing beauty--so at least to the eyes of the outlaw when heclambered to the poop. As the ship ran down the low coast, land and seaseemed clothed with a robe of rainbow-woven light. Far, near,--islands,mountains, and deep were burning with saffron, violet, and rose, as theSun-God's car climbed higher above the burning path it marked across thesea. Glaucon saw all in clear relief,--the Acropolis temple where he hadprayed, the Pnyx and Areopagus, the green band of the olive groves, eventhe knoll of Colonus,--where he had left his all. Never had he loved Athensmore than now. Never had she seemed fairer to his eyes than now. He was aGreek, and to a Greek death was only by one stage a greater ill thanexile.

  "O Athena Polias," he cried, stretching his hands to the fading beauty,"goddess who determineth all aright,--bless thou this land, though it wakesto call me traitor. Teach it to know I am in
nocent. Comfort Hermione, mywife. And restore me to Athens, after doing deeds which wipe out all myunearned shame!"

  The _Solon_ rounded the cape. The headland concealed the city. TheSaronian bay opened into the deeper blue of the AEgean and its sprinklingof brown islands. Glaucon looked eastward and strove to forget Attica.

  * * * * * * *

  Two hours later all Athens seemed reading this placard in the Agora:--

  NOTICE

  For the arrest of GLAUCON, SON OF CONON, charged with high treason, I will pay one talent.

  DEXILEUS, Chairman of the Eleven.

  Other such placards were posted in Peiraeus, in Eleusis, in Marathon, inevery Attic village. Men could talk of nothing else.